


Et Vapor Caelo

by MidnightCrow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, M/M, Sky Pirates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCrow/pseuds/MidnightCrow
Summary: Yuuri had heard of the Lilac Fairy, the pirate ship whispered about in bars after its patrons had consumed too much beer and it had loosened their tongues. Some said it could turn into mist, others said it was a ghost ship crewed by the people too evil for Hell; whatever the story one thing was for certain, those who were unlucky enough to see it never lived peaceful lives.Cartographer Yuuri Katsuki just wants to get home but luck isn’t on his side when he encounters the legendary airship captained by Viktor Nikiforov.





	1. Aether

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aether: Upper air, heaven, sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I punched in "Sky and steam" into several Latin translators for the title, those who actually know Latin please correct me.
> 
> Written because I thought to myself "You know what every fandom needs? Sky pirates."
> 
> Happy birthday Yuuri, you get a oneshot that I made up instead of working on my other stories.
> 
> I may continue it if people pester me, or someone could work with me on it idk.

People once wrote about the sea, about how the sun would rise above the horizon and dye the water red in the early hours of the morning, how sailors fell in love with the wind in their face and the smell of salt water. Yuuri grinned at the thought as he adjusted his sail and checked the balloons to make sure they had the right amount of air; the men who’d wrote those books may have loved sailing, but they’d never had the chance to fly. True, the breeze felt good as it ruffled his black hair and propelled his little airship forward as dusk faded into night, but that was where the similarities ended.

Below him stretched the world in all its splendor, the city of St. Petersburg stood out with its Baroque-style buildings in sharp contrast with the bronze and brass Center of Technology that had been built in the last twenty years. The CoT had been a pet project of the royal scientist, a test to see if weather could be artificially created and manipulated, but it seemed that clouds were the only thing it could make. Dividing the city was the Neva river, a blue snake that wound its way through the land before flowing into the bay; its waters dotted with steamships and barges.

Yuuri pulled his cap lower on his head and checked his equipment one last time before retreating to his cabin, he still had a long way before he returned home and he needed to rest. The airship he called Vicchan was a Stratus 6 model, almost a decade old but still managing to stay afloat and navigate the air currents. He loved the ship, even if the boiler that kept its three balloons inflated had a tendency to rattle and the sail had been mended more times than he could count. It was considered small as airships went, only having one tiny room with a hammock, a desk, a chair, and a little chest for clothes in it. Nothing compared to technological marvels like the Hummingbird, a ship so large it required half a dozen people to keep it airborne at all times.

The map on his desk was half-finished, the ink finally dry enough to put away for the night, and the cartographer smiled as he ran his fingers over the drawings and placed the paper in a drawer. He’d just barely managed to chart out the Winter Palace and the Church of St. Catherine before the sun had started going down, it was nearly impossible to work at night but the controls for the ship had to be constantly monitored in case anything went wrong. His eyes itched with tiredness and he considered taking Vicchan back to earth just so he could get a good night’s sleep, the airfield was always illuminated so airships could find it.

Yuuri returned to the wheel, glancing at the dials out of habit despite knowing they wouldn’t have changed, scanning his surroundings for the outskirts of town and the light of gas lamps. He was too tired to keep afloat right now, if anything broke while he slept in the air he wouldn’t be able to wake up. He wished for an actual bed, a hot meal, and his mind returned to the books on sailing; maybe there’d been more similarities than he’d realized.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a dark shape silhouetted against the night sky, blocking out the stars but from below it must look nearly invisible. Another ship? Who else could possibly be so stupid to fly with such poor visibility? The shape drew nearer and grew in size, black balloons keeping a hull of equally dark wood aloft, bigger than any ship the cartographer had ever seen in his life. 

The airship drew alongside his and suddenly a gleaming silver harpoon had attached itself to Vicchan, then a second, both trailing thick ropes that connected to miniature cannons. The ropes drew taut and with a horrifying lurch his own ship was being pulled toward this monstrosity, hull tilting sideways as the black deck came closer.

“Boss! I see someone!” A male voice pierced the air and Yuuri resisted the urge to retreat to the cabin and hide.

“It’s a ship, they can’t float by themselves yet.” Another male voice, but this one was a bit lower in pitch and reminded him of dark chocolate, smooth and rich but without any sugary sweetness. Who were these people?

“I mean the pilot’s awake, he can see us.”

“Most likely he can hear us too, you are quite loud.”

With a final shudder Vicchan landed on the deck of the enormous ship and Yuuri was able to see who was talking, two men who looked nothing like each other. He guessed that the man with short, reddish-brown hair and tanned skin had been the first speaker, his shoulders broad and his posture rigid as he stared at his companion. 

The cartographer felt like he knew the man with silver hair he’d pulled back into a ponytail, one section of long bangs covering the left side of his face; he was slightly taller than the brunet, his body slender and graceful. He wore a crimson frock coat with gold embroidery, a luxury few could afford, over a clean white shirt and gray vest; his pants were black and his boots shone, another oddity.

“Welcome aboard the Lilac Fairy little airman. I wish we hadn’t had to meet in such a way but I’m sure you’ll understand that we can’t let you go now that you’ve seen us.” The man, obviously the captain now that Yuuri had gotten a good look at him, smiled in a manner that didn’t actually convey happiness. 

Yuuri had heard of the Lilac Fairy, the pirate ship whispered about in bars after its patrons had consumed too much beer and it had loosened their tongues. Some said it could turn into mist, others said it was a ghost ship crewed by the people too evil for Hell; whatever the story one thing was for certain, those who were unlucky enough to see it never lived peaceful lives. Occasionally a man would stumble into town screaming about how his crew had been stranded on their ship as it was lit on fire while still floating, the balloons exploding in midair before the whole thing plummeted to earth. Only one man had to survive to tell the stories after all. If this truly was the airship people barely dared to speak of, thought the mere name was cursed, then he was unlucky indeed.

The captain lifted one silver eyebrow at the cartographer, or maybe it was both since he couldn’t actually see the other, as if waiting for him to react. When nothing happened he sighed and tilted his head to the side, bangs moving just enough to reveal the barest glimpse of what looked like a scar. “I did expect some kind of response, most people start begging for their lives at this point.”

“What good would that do me?” Yuuri was surprised his voice didn’t tremble, before him were some of the worst pirates in recent history but he stood his ground. “If you wanted me dead you would have shot me out of the sky, you wouldn’t have bothered to bring me onto your ship. Either you’re waiting to see if I’m a threat or you don’t want people to know you were in the area.” Airship crashes were always investigated, and if the wreckage showed any sign of cannon fire or anything other than a malfunction people would get suspicious. It was strange though, wouldn’t these men want to cause a scene?

“So observant you are, I’ll admit I’m surprised. You’re the first man in a while who’s caught my interest so I think we’ll let you live, for now. I’m curious as to why someone so young is up here at such an hour.”

The cartographer held his tongue, the less these pirates knew about him the longer he might live, just until they could pry the information from his lips. He’d only risked flying at night because the trip back to Japan took so long, the more time he spent airborne meant he’d be home that much sooner, but they didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Mickey, take our guest below decks, show him where he’ll be spending most of his time.” The brunet vaulted over Vicchan’s railing and practically tossed Yuuri onto the main deck of the Lilac Fairy. “Yuri, search the ship, see if there’s anything we should be worried about.”

“How did you-” A blond boy who didn’t look old enough to shave stepped out of the shadows and the cartographer realized that it wasn’t him being addressed at all. A yank on his arm before his legs were struggling to keep upright as the man called Mickey pulled Yuuri forward towards a door on one side of the airship, his grip like iron. 

As the pair passed the captain the silver-haired man whispered in his prisoner’s ear. “You don’t remember me do you?”

-

Viktor Nikiforov, captain of the Lilac Fairy, stood at the wheel of his ship and stared out at the city below him without actually seeing it. In his hand he fiddled with a gold locket, the cheap metal contrasting with the image of a wealthy pirate he used to trick people. Was he a pirate? Technically yes, he stole from corrupt governments and he’d been forced to take several lives over the course of his life, but he’d vomited every time and still wished there had been another option.

It was better that people feared him and he went so far as to pay strangers to spread stories about how terrible he and his crew were. If he was someone to be frightened of then the few airships he encountered knew to steer clear of his ship, a ship that he’d taken years perfecting the design of. By night it floated above the world, the stained hull and black balloons blending in with the sky, but when the sun rose they made sure to be near water so they could pass for a normal sailing vessel. They switched the ebony sails for white ones and flew the flag of Her Majesty, hiding in plain sight from the world that wanted them in prison.

Yuuri. With a flick the locket opened and a small image looked back at him, dark eyes and black hair, a smile he’d seen in his dreams. He’d never expected to meet his childhood friend again, not after all this time; the man must think he’d died all those years ago in the fire that had consumed the rest of his family. He didn’t and couldn’t know the truth, he couldn’t know that the prince and heir to the throne of Russia was sailing the sky and sea in search of the people who’d ruined his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is slightly influenced by Sturmhond from the Grishaverse stories by Leigh Bardugo, a pirate with an amphibious ship. I'm not giving away any more about the character for those who haven't read any of the books because spoilers aren't nice.
> 
> I like steampunk myself, I help out with a steampunk street fair as one of the costumed characters and I'm a fan of things like the Finishing School series and Stardust (movie and book) so it was interesting to see where my imagination took me. Sky pirates are a thing I wish existed, although the plausibility of airships in general is iffy considering how thin the air would get so high up. Suspension of disbelief I guess, or maybe that's why gasmasks are so common in steampunk.
> 
> Honestly I don't know if I'm going to continue this, it wasn't even a spark of a concept when I updated Spring and Winter earlier today. I don't know where the idea came from and therefore I don't know where it could go. If anyone has ideas or wants to talk to me about it or something go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) and ask away, I look forward to hearing what people think.''
> 
> Feedback would be much appreciated and if you liked this check out Spring and Winter and Of Stolen Glances and Faked Smiles.


	2. Mare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mare: Sea, water, aqua.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I was seriously not expecting the response this received so despite how every inch of my body hurts I still wrote this. I should probably have eaten and I have work at six tomorrow but meh.
> 
> It's probably terrible.

The Lilac Fairy was surprisingly well-maintained for a pirate ship, Yuuri noted as he was led through the lower decks to a small room above the hold; he was surprised he wasn’t being locked up in the brig. He’d asked Mickey about it, and the brunet had responded with a noncommittal shrug and muttered something about not having one. How was it possible that such a notorious ship didn’t have a place to lock up prisoners? Did they just not keep any?

The interior was made of the same dark wood as the rest of the airship, gas lamps hung from the ceiling every few feet and illuminated the hallway with its six doors on each side, a red carpet covering the floor. Was this where the crew stayed? The cartographer had pictured a large room with hammocks dangling in rows between barrels and crates of stolen goods, not an elegant corridor ending in a porthole framed by velvet curtains. His room was no less luxurious, larger than the cabin back on Vicchan with a bed topped with a patchwork quilt, a chest of drawers, and a desk all made from wood carved with expert craftsmanship. Another porthole, this one smaller than the first, stared out into the inky sky as the ship drifted.

There was a click from the door and Yuuri found it to be locked, an elegant prison was still a prison and he was still a prisoner. Would his parents worry when he failed to turn up in a week like he’d planned? Would he be a prisoner for the rest of his life or would he just be shoved over the side of the ship when day broke, his body tumbling through clouds and nothingness until it hit the hard ground? Was the captain really such a cruel man that he would do such a thing to an innocent map maker?

He had to admit that the man was striking to look at; silver hair tied back with a red ribbon, blue eyes like the sea, with his frock coat and well-shined shoes he looked like royalty. Royalty. There was a sharp pain in his chest that the black-haired man didn’t understand but he felt like crying; images came to him like bits of broken pottery, beautiful but impossible to put together. The Winter Palace before the fire that had destroyed an entire wing, cakes in the shape of flowers, a clockwork doll that sang when a key in its back was wound. There was a boy there too, but his face was blurred as though someone had spilled water on his memories, a boy who’d laughed instead of crying when he’d skinned his knees, a boy who’d been his best friend.

Why couldn’t he remember? Who had that boy been and why did it make him feel so sad that Yuuri could no longer picture his face? Here he was, a prisoner on a pirate ship, most likely about to die within the next few days, and instead of figuring out a way to survive he was feeling sorry for a child he’d forgotten existed? 

The cartographer took off his cap as he strode to the desk, finding paper and pen inside the drawer and starting to write to his parents; if he really wasn’t ever going to see them again he could beg the captain to deliver this to them. There was no way to know if it would do anyone any good but the alternative was to do nothing, and as tempting as that bed looked the thought of his parents grief-struck faces when he never arrived was enough to keep him awake.

Hours later he was startled awake by a scratching noise at his door and he jerked upright, the letter he’d fallen asleep writing stuck to his cheek and his glasses askew. The door was still locked from the outside, but the noise persisted for a minute longer before that smooth voice Yuuri recognized as belonging to the captain spoke.

“Makkachin, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that? You’ll scuff the wood and I already have to deal with you making messes on the carpets.”

“You’re the one who thought it was a good idea to bring a dog on an airship, I’m surprised she still puts up with you.” Another voice, this one unfamiliar and higher pitched than the first.

“I couldn’t leave Makka, she’s my best friend. I let you bring Potya didn’t I? That cat keeps leaving hairballs in my boots.”

“Potya knows you deserve it, she’s a smart cat.”

The scratching continued and Yuuri wasn’t sure if he should make his presence known, did he really want to attract the attention of the captain and whoever his companion was? If there was a dog though...

Bark!

The cartographer fell sideways, he’d jumped at the noise just as the airship had shook and the chair had toppled over. The voices ceased talking and there was the sound of metal on metal before the door opened and a fluffy brown poodle bounded over to the man sprawled out on the floor. His prone position made it easy for the dog to place their paws on his shoulders and begin licking his cheeks, clearly happy to see a new face.

“Bad Makka! Get off our guest!” The poodle, Makka apparently, just lifted their face to the doorway where the captain stood, his coat navy blue with silver buttons and embroidery today. The blond-haired boy who shared Yuuri’s name scowled at the scene before him, not saying a word. “Makkachin, come here!” The dog let out a huff before padding over to their master reluctantly, giving the cartographer a chance to sit up and straighten his glasses.

The silver-haired man gave a snort of laughter and pointed to the cheek not obscured by his bangs, “you have ink on your face.” With a flourish he pulled out a pristine white handkerchief before approaching Yuuri and offering it to him.

“Thank you.” The black-haired man accepted the cloth and began scrubbing at his skin, wishing he had some water since the ink had clearly dried while he’d slept. The cloth had smears of black on it now, nothing stayed clean for long, and it felt wrong to return it to the captain in its sullied state.

“Forgive me, but I do believe I haven’t introduced myself,” the man smiled at me, the action still not reaching his uncovered eye. “I’m Viktor, captain of the Lilac Fairy.” He held out a hand covered by a black leather glove.

“Katsuki Yuuri, cartographer,” he accepted the handshake reluctantly. “Why did you refer to me as your guest? I’m a prisoner, unless you changed your mind about keeping me here against my will.”

“Prisoner sounds so harsh, captive too. I prefer the word guest, it sounds more elegant.” Viktor held a finger to his chin thoughtfully.

“You’re a pirate who’s killed hundreds of people, why should you care about being elegant?” The words sounded harsher than Yuuri had wanted them to but he felt no remorse for saying them. Ordinarily he’d worry about people misinterpreting what he said, but now that he knew he had nothing left to lose he felt lighter.

“Now, now, even a monster has standards. first impressions mean everything when it comes to almost anything, be it the element of surprise giving you an edge in a fight or winning over an ally. Besides, I gave you a room didn’t I?”

A golden cage is still a cage. The cartographer longed to say that but He didn’t dare risk angering the captain, the man still had the ability to pitch Yuuri overboard into the... A ray of sunlight flashed into his eyes and he squinted at the porthole before his mouth fell open.

Where the endless sky had once been there was the sea, waves lapping at the sides of the boat and rocking it gently from side to side. The black-haired man was used to flying and the sight of water stretching for miles until the horizon made him uneasy, was this ship even capable of floating?

“We prefer to travel the old-fashioned way in the daytime, a black airship tends to stand out otherwise,” another insincere smile. “If you get seasick please tell someone before you vomit so you can be brought above deck, otherwise you’ll have to clean up the mess.”

“You’re telling me that this ship can actually sail in the water?” Yuuri’s voice was shaky now.

“It’s done so until now, so I’d say yes.”

Ugh. There was something unnerving about the ocean itself, the fact nobody knew how deep it was, the creatures that lurked in the shadowy depths. It was one thing to see sharks and whales from the air, but actually being near such beings made him uneasy. In the sky one had to worry about storms and birds, unstable winds and equipment malfunctioning; in the sea there were all those things and more.

“Do you feel sick?” Viktor actually sounded concerned.

The cartographer nodded, his stomach roiling now that he was aware of where he was. The three of them headed up the two ladders to the main deck only to be greeted by the spray of sea water, the salty smell only serving to increase Yuuri’s nausea until he ran to the portside railing and emptied the meager contents of his stomach into the water below.

-

Viktor felt bad about how he was treating Yuuri but the boy, no the man, couldn’t remember him no matter how much he longed for it. Those days they’d spent together felt like memories that belonged to someone else, someone who hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night to smoke and screaming.

The papers said that the fire had been started by a buildup in one of the fireplaces, the oil paintings and lacquered floors perfect fuel as the flames spread. He’d been ten when a maid had shaken him awake, placing a wet cloth over his mouth and nose before she led him through the halls of the palace, searching for a way out. The boy he’d been had just wanted his parents, he hadn’t understood what was going on or why one of the hallways was now blocked by parts of ceiling that had collapsed.

Viktor had been a different person after that day, the young prince had died in the fire along with his parents and it was best for everyone if he continued to live as a ghost. People already suspected that he wasn’t human, and as he lifted a hand to his left eye, the burn scar he kept hidden behind silver bangs, he wondered if that was true.

Makkachin nudged his leg, the poodle sensing his distress and wanting to comfort her master. “I’m fine Makka, just tired.” The dog whined sadly. “Really...” He stared into the horizon. “I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently there was a fire in the Winter Palace of Russia in 1837, which is the year Queen Victoria took the throne in the UK and the Victorian era started. History is neat.
> 
> I still have no idea what I'm doing with this but I'll push forward anyway. 
> 
> If someone wants to help brainstorm or something the link to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) now works and I can't believe nobody told me it was broken.
> 
> Tell me what you think so far so I can smile while slaving away making lattes tomorrow.


	3. Cinere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinere: Ashes, embers, ruin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I can't stay away...
> 
> Thanks to everyone who wished me well on my semi-hiatus even though I had to delete that note and the comments are gone, I'm feeling better after taking a week off and I'll do my best.
> 
> I still don't know exactly where this story is going but I won't give up! I'm also looking to commission someone for artwork since while I can kinda draw my skills aren't enough for what I have in mind :/

“You missed a spot,” Viktor’s voice cut into Yuuri’s thoughts like a knife and he dropped the scrub brush in shock, it clattered to the deck loudly before he snatched it up again. Cleaning the deck had been the other Yuri’s idea, a way for him to be useful while he stayed on the airship; the cartographer had wanted to say that it hadn’t been his choice to be here but it seemed pointless. His ability to make maps didn’t seem particularly useful since there already were some onboard and he’d been given menial cleaning tasks in addition to cooking meals. 

It had been six days since they’d left St. Petersburg and the sun was somehow managing to break through the gray clouds that had been plaguing them the whole trip, forcing the crew members who needed to be on deck to don their rain gear. Flying during storms was risky, the air currents were often unpredictable and the towering storm clouds were impossible to fly over; they’d had to try going around the thunderheads and had been caught in a few of them. Inside a cloud was one of the worst places to be, especially when there was a thunderstorm, and Yuuri had heard everyone yelling at one another on how to navigate when they couldn’t see a foot in front of them. Even when they had landed on the water the waves threatened to tip the ship over, sea foam crashing onto the deck as thunder boomed from all around them. When the front had passed and taken the storm with it Yuuri felt like he’d woken from a nightmare, the blue sky above him and the ground speeding past as they flew on. 

It seemed like there were two different crews aboard the ship, one for when they sailed during the daytime and another for night when the balloons were inflated and they soared among the clouds. If it weren’t for the fact that the Lilac Fairy was a pirate ship he might have been impressed by how smoothly the ship transitioned from sky to sea, the crew members working seamlessly with one another despite barely saying anything. 

Viktor manned the wheel most nights and Yuuri decided to stay awake just to observe the flashy captain. The man was always impeccably dressed in fine white shirts and frock coats of various colors, his long silver hair pulled back apart from that one section of bangs that definitely seemed to be hiding some kind of scar. What had happened to him for him to have gotten it? Was it from a fight?

Yuuri was sure he’d met most of the people who worked during the nighttime, well as sure as he could get from being in such a bizarre situation. Yuri was the teenager who seemed to be the first mate despite his young age, the cartographer wasn’t sure exactly what to make of the boy since he had a slender body along with chin-length blonde hair and feminine features. These looks contrasted sharply with his personality, which seemed to fluctuate between a cat that had its tail stepped on and what might have been remorse for snapping at others; probably normal teenage behavior.

The brown-haired man who’d dragged Yuuri from his ship was Michele, or Mickey, and he seemed to prefer actions over words in addition to disliking the other males, the dirty-blonde man named Emil being the only exception he’d seen so far. Mila was one of the two women on the ship along with Mickey’s sister Sara, she was a boisterous redhead with a contagious laugh and a need to prove she was just as capable as any of the men onboard. Georgi was a pale man with black hair and a personality that didn’t seem suited to a life of piracy, a mirror to Otabeck whose skin was tanned from spending both days and nights climbing the rigging and watching from the crow’s nest. Everyone seemed so different from one another and yet they worked well together, anticipating what was needed and reacting quickly if something started to go wrong; it was almost nice, for pirates.

Only Viktor seemed like an enigma, the man liked to say a lot without actually giving away much information as if he were performing a slight-of hand trick verbally and directing Yuuri’s attention away from any actual answers. The captain loved his dog, that much was obvious from how he coddled the poodle below decks, and he didn’t deny any of the crimes he’d committed but that was it. The more time the cartographer spent with the silver-haired man the harder it was to believe that the rumors about him were true. The ship truly held no cells for prisoners, the lower level held small airships and had a hatch in the bottom so people could pilot them in and out which was how Vicchan had gotten onboard after it had been harpooned. 

It was comforting to see the Stratus 6 again, the black-haired man had expected to hear it had been disposed of once they’d hit water, and nothing had been taken from his meager possessions. The desk drawer had fallen out in the commotion, the half-finished map of St. Petersburg lay rolled-up in one corner and the jar of ink had shattered and stained the wood floor black but otherwise it looked unchanged. It was one bright spot in a future clouded with uncertainty.

“Can you not sneak up on me?” Yuuri shot a look at the captain before returning his attention to the deck and scrubbing at a patch of salt left from evaporated seawater. His fingers ached from holding the brush and his knuckles felt raw and cracked but he made sure not to complain.

“And miss seeing you jump out of your skin? Not a chance.” Viktor stared at him from where he leaned against the railing, his coat a dark green today with a matching ribbon tying his hair back and his one visible eye crinkled in apparent amusement.

“Is this what I get to look forward to as a guest? I’m not sure I would have signed up for this whole being-held-against-my-will thing if I’d known I’d have to do chores and get harassed daily. Maybe jumping overboard really is the better option after all.” It was a joke but there was a certain amount of truth in his words regardless; Yuuri was stressed and it churned his stomach when the rocking waves didn’t. Nobody gave him a straight answer when he asked what was in store for him and they seemed fine with delegating him to menial tasks so he wasn’t in the way, but the anxiety was chipping away at him.

“I’m sorry,” the captain stared over his shoulder to the starry sky behind him as if searching for something he’d lost long ago and didn’t know just how to find it again. “I understand you didn’t ask for any of this.”

“How can you understand how I feel? How can you possibly understand me when you’ve basically kidnapped me?” The cartographer had risen to his feet, the brush forgotten on the deck as his fists trembled by his sides. “Nobody knows where I am! My family and friends will probably think I’m dead if they don’t already!” Tears were trickling down his cheeks now and he hurriedly wiped them away with the back of his hand before stomping off to the ladder and back to his room.

-

The fire had spread to the hallway, flames of yellow red and orange licking the paintings and curtains as sparks crackled and popped in the smoky air. Viktor clutched a wet rag to his face as he struggled to keep up with the maid gripping his other hand, the smoke seeping through the cloth somehow and filling his lungs while burning his eyes at the same time. The kitchen, they just had to make it to the kitchen and they might have a chance to survive but with each step it was harder to go on.

“No!” The maid stopped before the doorway to the kitchen, the wooden frame was ablaze; just how far had the fire spread? She turned to face him, her eyes wide with fear before they closed as she took a shuddering breath. “Viktor, we have to run through it alright? You have to be brave, you have to survive.”

He hadn’t understood, he’d been ten years old and panic clouded his mind making comprehension impossible. Go through the door? He’d done it hundreds of time before, what made this moment so different? Despite the heat closing in on him from all sides nothing felt real, maybe he was still dreaming after all?

A yank on his hand and they were running again, the maid had pulled her apron off and thrown it at the ground, smothering the flames for an instant as they passed through into the empty kitchen. The stone passage was right in front of them but before they could move towards it a section of the ceiling collapsed and the door was gone, sparks spraying in every direction, a cluster of smoldering embers landed on Viktor’s face.

He screamed and lifted a hand to his eye, wanting to rub the ashes away before his wrist was grasped and he was lifted into the maid’s arms as she sprinted into the servant’s hallway before the whole building fell down. She took her own wet cloth from her mouth and tried to wipe his face off before they were running again. The child he’d been had stumbled, the fear and pain overwhelming his senses and dragging him into unconsciousness before he’d hit the ground.

Back in the present Viktor stared at the hatch that led below deck, where Yuuri had vanished into minutes ago.

“I understand more than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Viktor. Poor Yuuri. These two need a hug. Technically Viktor needs to man up and explain what's going on but that means I have to figure out just what's going on. Shit.
> 
> I remembered that someone told me to listen to Dear Evan Hansen and therefore started listening to the soundtrack from it for the first time ever partway through writing this chapter... It kinda impacted the last part of Yuuri's POV and I'm sorry. I'd promised to a while ago and just remembered today..
> 
> I always have these notes thought out while I write the chapter but when it comes to actually writing them I blank out.
> 
> Comments, kudos, bookmarks, all of these are appreciated more than you realize and help me push through the mental blocks and continue writing. Check out my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi or check out the dumb picture I took when I costested Victor the other day and decided to put on a costume that arrived the same day as the wig, Frozen crossovers are still a thing right?
> 
> Thank you for reading. Someday I'll write a longer chapter.


	4. Nebula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula: Mist, cloud, haze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand it's still technically Viktor's birthday! I did it!

The city of Lucerne was situated in the center of Switzerland, the Reuss river flowing through it before draining into a lake named after the city itself. The Church of St. Leodegar sat on a small hill by the lake shore its twin towers stretching into sharp points, and the Spreuer and Chapel bridges spanned the river in a zigzagging fashion. It was magnificent to look at from up high and a large part of Yuuri longed to sketch it, to immortalize the Lion Monument and the airfield in ink and paper even if another map already existed.

"It's even prettier in the day," Viktor had snuck up on him once more, as though he was trying to make a habit of surprising the cartographer. He was right though, the city was shrouded by darkness, the only lights being the flicker of gas lamps and the moonlight reflecting off buildings. If it was just him and Vicchan there would be nothing stopping him from taking in Lucerne's splendor during the day, but this was the Lilac Fairy and things were different. 

Even though it was risky to land the ship in a normal airfield it would cause more problems if they stayed afloat or touched down in the lake, the only boats docked were small fishing vessels. The captain swore that this was a safe place for them, apparently he had connections to the local law enforcement officials and they knew not to touch anything unless they wanted angry pirates on their hands.

"I've never been this far west before," Yuuri tucked a lock of black hair behind his ear and adjusted his cap. "It was too far to travel."

"Oh? Where are you from?" One silver eyebrow lifted in interest.

"Japan, will you take me back there?" The response was harsher than he'd meant it to be but the thought of home was heartbreaking.

"Maybe if you're a good boy, but first I want to get to know you," Viktor wore the same crimson coat he'd had on when they'd first met, a matching hair ribbon fluttering in the night air. "Do you have a soulmate?"

That question had been unexpected, soulmates were a very personal topic meant to be discussed only with family and close friends; for the captain to bring it up was beyond rude. A study had found out that about 90% of the population has a soulmate, a person that doesn't necessarily complete them but rather complements them and draws out each other's full potential. 

Soulmates can be found by two factors that work to determine who belong with each other: The first is a phrase, the first thing your soulmate says to you, but there's also something called a soulmark, an image only shared between soulmates. The wealthy often put an advertisement in papers calling out for their destined partner, but despite nine out of ten people having a soulmate only one in six found them.

"They died when I was young," Yuuri had thought about the boy from his memories during the trip to Lucerne, the one whose face was lost to him, and something had come back to him. Two skinny arms lined up next to each other, a silver snowflake that looked to be crafted from the inner workings of a clock rested right below each elbow with words in two different languages. On the forearm that seemed to belong to him were characters he couldn't read, but on the boy's it said in carefully formed katakana "who are you?"

"Are you lost?" The boy ran a pale finger over Yuuri's arm, the black lines that were as much a part of his skin as the freckles on his cheeks and shoulders.

"What does it mean?" His own voice was high pitched, both because he'd been a child and because he was lost in a foreign country.

"It means we're soulmates!" The boy had been so excited, he must have smiled widely but his face was still blocked from his memories. "What's your name?"

"I'm Yuuri..."

"Yuuri? I have a friend named Yuri," he'd started tugging on the black-haired boy's hand, bringing him somewhere. "My name is-"

The memory ended there, everything else was just fog and when he tried to force his brain to remember more he'd just gotten a headache. The only other thing he could recall about his soulmate were his parents heartbroken faces and his mother's sobs as she'd hugged him after reading a letter.

"I'm sorry Yuuri, I'm so sorry," her face was tear-streaked and her breaths were laced with sniffles. "There was a fire, the palace caught fire... There were no survivors."

The cartographer's fingers squeezed the railing of the Lilac Fairy as if he was convincing himself that he was here instead of in the past. "I don't remember who they were, I just know they're gone now."

"Ah," Viktor didn't seem to know how to respond for once. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It was a long time ago, I'd almost forgotten about it entirely," he coughed and tried to think of a way to change the subject. "Have you always been the captain?"

The silver-haired man looked at Yuuri quizzically before returning his gaze to the city below them. "Yes, I designed the Lilac Fairy myself and I've commanded it for the past five years. Any other questions about me?"

"Why did you become a pirate in the first place?"

A dark chuckle and Viktor's lips pursed before he answered. "I want to get even with someone and I honestly don't care if the rest of the world calls me a monster. So long as they know that when I come for them and they see what I've become they realize that they created it."

-

Yuuri was... He wasn't exactly scared but he wasn't quite disgusted either. Unnerved maybe? Horrified? Whatever it was he wasn't pleased by Viktor's brutal honesty and he didn't respond. Maybe it was for the best that Georgi appeared on deck just then, soot on his cheek, panting for breath.

"Captain! The boiler is acting up!" He groaned, there was an engineer for a reason but maybe he was sleeping.

"Do you know what caused it?" The cartographer had straightened up and Viktor remembered that he had his own ship he flew by himself, equipment malfunctions had to be taken care of himself.

"We think there's too much pressure, but I don't know how to fix it," he was lookout for a reason.

The three of them headed below decks to the boiler room, steam filled the small space and within seconds the captain had started sweating in his long coat. He took the thing off, throwing it on a table and rolling up his sleeves as he walked through the vapor to the boiler which was whistling loudly. The pressure gauge was too high, something an idiot could tell with a simple glance, but there were a number of things that could cause it; a clogged pipe, too much coal, not enough water. The problem was that any attempt to fix it would involve turning the boiler itself off, but they were still airborne and the nearest airfield was still miles away.

"Are the balloons fully inflated?" Yuuri had taken his glasses off so he could peer at the machinery.  
"Yes but we'd have no way to gain altitude if we needed to, plus we don't know how long the boilers would be down for." Viktor wanted to push his bangs out of his eyes but the uncomfortable feeling of hair on his skin was nothing compared to his need to keep the scar hidden.

He'd woken in a small cottage three days after the fire, lungs scratchy and the left side of his face burning; the maid had brought him to a friend of hers that agreed to let them stay while they recovered.

"Will I be able to see?" He'd lifted a hand to the bandage over his eye and winced, his hands had also gotten burned as well.  
"The doctor says the damage is mostly to the skin itself, but it should heal and you will be able to see. You will have a scar though, your hands might have scars too."

He'd sighed before lying back on the bed. "Nobody can call me beautiful anymore."

Viktor certainly didn't feel beautiful with sweat drenching his shirt as he struggled to check the pipes for buildup, Yuuri had gone above deck to steer because he'd had experience flying with just balloons and wind. Ten minutes he'd said, he could keep them afloat for ten minutes before the boiler had to be fixed or they needed to land, before the steam would start to cool and they'd lose altitude. There, a tiny chunk of coal had gotten lodged in the copper pipe and he poked a gloved finger into the opening to pry it loose before restoring the connection. The gauge started going down, the whistling coming to a stop as the room cleared.

Back on the deck the cool night air felt good against his flushed skin as he stared back at the city below. "Does that happen often?" Yuuri came to stand at his side, his cap askew and his cheeks flushed.

"It shouldn't have happened at all, someone slacked off while cleaning."

"Well, I'm just happy it wasn't-" he broke off, his eyes focused on Viktor's arms, at the snowflake and writing on them. "Who are you?" The question was mirrored on Yuuri's face.

So much for keeping his identity a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really worried I wasn't going to be able to post something today because these past few days have been very stressful, if anyone follows my tumblr you'd have seen there was a family emergency and it made writing pretty hard. I don't feel comfortable working on Of Stolen Glances and Faked Smiles right now, I don't want to deal with disease and hospitals and death.... I was able to put some world building and story development in though.
> 
> After chapter one I tossed around the idea of soulmates and this was the result, because the whole "first thing they say to you" can get a bit confusing since it can be "what." I added the soul mark to narrow things down without a blatant name. Good luck Yuuri and Viktor!
> 
> Who lives in Switzerland?


	5. Corusco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corusco: Flicker, glitter, shake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws chapter and runs* I'll explain below!

Horror. That was the best word to describe the expression twisting Viktor’s face as he realized just what was happening. The wind whistled between him and Yuuri as they stood across from each other on the main deck, the sun just starting to peek up from behind the horizon line. Next to the captain was the blonde Yuri, brows creased in either irritation or confusion as his green eyes darted from one man to the other. Everyone else was congratulating one another on the quick repair job despite the fact that most of them hadn’t been involved in it, but so long as there weren’t more people to witness what had just happened.

“You... This isn’t possible...” The cartographer lifted one hand to his forehead, removing the worn cap and running trembling fingers through his black hair.

“I’m going back to my cabin; Yuri can man the wheel until we can find an airfield. I don’t want us talking off again until the equipment has been cleaned and inspected by one of the engineers, it’s fortunate that I was able to remove the blockage quickly.” The captain rolled his sleeves down again and despite the sweat still visible on his brow he pulled his coat back on before striding off towards the aft.

“Wait!” Yuuri reached out and grabbed Viktor’s sleeve to prevent him from leaving. “You can’t just leave without telling me.”

With a jerk the sleeve was yanked free and the silver-haired man continued on his way, tugging on his gloves as though checking to make sure they weren’t going to fall off. “I don’t have to tell you anything. I’ll let you off the ship when we reach Lucerne and you can fly home to Japan or whatever you want to do.”

“You wouldn’t dare, you’d really let me go when I know so much? You’d willingly let someone who knows the names and faces of half of your crew, not to mention a location you’ve admitted has ties to you, go? Is whatever revenge scheme you’ve dedicated your life to going to work if I go to the papers with this information?” Yuuri’s voice was barely audible above the roar of the wind, but someone heard him because within seconds a blade was pressed to his throat.

“Best not to say such things on a pirate ship if you want to live,” Yuri whispered in the cartographer’s ear, his sword shining in the rising sun. “While Viktor may have problems taking lives I assure you that if it’s to help him I share no such concerns.”

“Yura, don’t,” the silver-haired man’s eyes shone like gems as he struggled to compose himself. “Let him go.”

The blade stayed where it was. “Like hell I will, I’m not letting everything you’ve worked for be for nothing just because some kid thinks he has the right to meddle in our affairs. You know nothing and yet you think you have the right to try to blackmail us? To bargain with us for your secrecy when you have done nothing to earn it? Who do you think you are to demand such things from us?” The teen’s hand must have been shaking because the sharp edge of the sword nicked Yuuri’s neck slightly and blood began to dribble onto his collar.

“Yuri stand down! I’ll deal with him myself.” They had an audience now, the other crew members had noticed the dispute and the drawn blade only to hush their own conversations in order to find out what was going on.

“Whatever you want to ask me,” Viktor took a shaky breath as he fought to maintain a calm expression, a hand touching his cheek, no the scar hidden behind his bangs. The breeze shifted those silver locks slightly and the skin surrounding the captain’s left eye was discolored, smooth except for a few raised patches along the edges. “You can’t ask it here.”

_"I'm sorry Yuuri, I'm so sorry. There was a fire, the palace caught fire... There were no survivors."_

His mother had been the one to tell him about the fire and before him stood a man with a burn scar who never took his gloves off, a man who had the same words and mark as the soulmate Yuuri had believed to be dead. Yet it had only been since stepping aboard this ship that those memories had started coming back to him, and his first night here this very man had whispered cryptic words into his ear.

_“You don’t remember me do you?”_

“On your own head be it.” Yuri snarled as he released the cartographer and started off towards the stern before any of them said something that the rest of the crew would overhear; so the teen knew just who was really captain of the Lilac Fairy. 

_“I have a friend named Yuri.”_

Were they the same person? Was that why someone so young was the first mate? Yuuri had so many questions he didn’t know which to ask first, he just allowed himself to be led to the stern of the ship while his brain tried to process what he’d just witnessed. He’d never been to the captain’s quarters before, never had any interest in visiting them, but he’d expected them to be as lavishly decorated as the other rooms; he was surprised to see the room was fairly plain. A bed was pressed into one corner with a soft-looking blanket on it, a large desk in the center of the room with a map of Europe spread on its surface and polished stones marking certain locations. A smaller desk free of clutter except for a leather-bound book rested on the other side of the room, several bookshelves cluttered with tomes of every shape and size, and a door set in one wall but not much else. No extravagant paintings or treasure chests, no velvet-lined chairs but a simple wooden one that seemed well-used.

Only after the door had been closed and locked did either man look at each other, hesitant to actually have their eyes meet. There was so much that needed to be asked, so much that needed to be explained that it was hard to know where to start and in the end it was Yuri who broke the silence.

“Spit it out pig,” it was practically a hiss.

“How are you still alive? You died, I was told you died,” the cartographer pushed back his own shirt sleeves to reveal the silver snowflake in the crook of his elbow on his left arm, the black letters he now knew were Cyrillic in stark contrast to his pale skin. He pointed to the katakana on the captain’s arm. “Who are you?”

“You already know the answer to that, don’t you?” Viktor’s smile was mournful, as though he were struggling to keep tears back. The boy from Yuuri’s memories had a face now, he’d been alive all this time and was a man now, just like Yuuri. “I’m... I’m Prince Viktor Nikiforov... Or I was, I’m just Captain Viktor now.”

“You died though, it was in the papers even in Japan; they said nobody survived the fire.”

“Two people survived, I haven’t decided if I was fortunate or unfortunate to be one of them, but since the fire was intentional it was best people believed I died. My aunt wouldn’t think to look for a ghost that way.”

“Your aunt?” Yuuri inhaled deeply as realization struck. “Wait what do you mean the fire was intentional?”

“Who sits on the throne of Russia?” Viktor’s voice was cold.

“Um, Empress Iskra Nikiforova, your... aunt...” He trailed off lamely. “It was her, wasn’t it?”

“Tetya Iskra, yes. Being my father’s sister she had no other way to get the throne other than getting rid of us, her own family.”

-

It was in all the papers and on everyone’s lips for the weeks it took Viktor to recover, for his lungs to heal enough to allow for walking and running. His eye would take longer, while the burn hadn’t been too severe it was still on his face and the skin was more sensitive there; he was just lucky his hair hadn’t caught fire or things might have been worse. Even so the bandages and salves on his face and hands itched and stung as his skin knitted back together, sometimes it felt so irritating that he couldn’t sleep and he longed to rake his nails over his eyelid just to stop the prickling.

“The Emperor is dead,” the wives whispered to one another behind their hands and their voices drifted in through the open window. “His wife and son too, the Empress and Prince.”

“The Winter Palace is half-gone, burnt to ashes.”

“No survivors I hear.”

Viktor wished they would talk about something else for once, it was bad enough that he’d lived through the fire but hearing about it endlessly made everything so much worse. He missed his mother’s gentle laughter and warm hugs, his father’s jokes and lessons; he missed the palace in its gaudy splendor, missed his old life so much it hurt worse than the burn on his face or his scratchy lungs. They were right though, the life he’d once lived was over, their prince was dead and who knew what had replaced him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I'll keep this brief, Dec 23rd there was a death in the family and it was a struggle to post something for Viktor's bday and dealing with the wake and sad family members in addition to other stress made focusing near impossible. Then I got sick and my brain filled with cotton so I kind of stared at a wall for hours not doing anything.
> 
> Moving on, apparently after the 17-somethings in Russia the royal family decided they wanted to be called Emperor and Empress instead of Tzar and Tzarina? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong because I know little to nothing on Russia, like if you would use Tetya instead of aunt like Vicchan does by saying Tetya Iskra.
> 
> Anywhoooo, plot! Yayyyy plot!
> 
> Because of the cotton somewhat still in my brain I'm accepting fic suggestions! Got something you'd like written? Go to my [Tumblr](https://midnightcrowisabadname.tumblr.com/) and tell me and I'll see what I can do especially if it pertains to cooking/baking/barista stuff because that's what I studied and what I have to run off to do in a few minutes. Gotta make those frappucinos and scream internally. Do not talk to me about unicorns I almost punched a child.


	6. Ventus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ventus: Wind, rumor, favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Crawls up from hell*  
> I did it!

“I won’t tell anyone about you, even if you end up sending me away.” Yuuri leaned up against the wall of the captain’s quarters as he stared at Viktor who was sprawled on top of his bed without taking his boots and coat off and Makkachin nestled beside him protectively.

“If I send you away? What happened to demanding I let you go?” The tone in which Viktor spoke was casual enough as the captain fiddled with a gold chain around his neck, but his expression was stiff, his mouth a hard line. The captain had untied his ponytail and his hair now fanned out around his face, cascading over the pillow like liquid silver as it reflected the rays of the setting sun. A smudge of coal dust coated his cheek, stark contrast to his white skin in the dim lighting, and similar streaks covered his shirt from where his gloves had made contact with the fabric.

“I want to know the full story; how my childhood friend, my soulmate, became the man I see before me today.” Yuuri felt the last bits of adrenaline leave his system due to the fact he was no longer steering an airship without a working boiler or having a sword pressed to his neck. In place of the raw energy that had flooded his veins only minutes ago was a crushing exhaustion, he’d drained his supply of fuel and was now feeling the effects. “I have the right to know, and once I’ve gotten all the information I’ll decide what to do from there.”

Silence greeted him from the bed, and the cartographer looked up from where he’d been staring at his boots to see that he was alone with Viktor, Yuri must have snuck out without either of them noticing. The captain had one arm slung over his eyes, shielding them from the sun, and Yuuri couldn’t tell if he was being ignored or the man had simply fallen asleep.

“Do you not want me to stay?” He didn’t know why he asked the question at all, it wasn’t like the the answer would change anything and yet at the same time he needed to know what the captain was thinking. Yuuri felt like he was inside a cloud once again, surrounded by uncertainty on all sides with no clue of what direction he should be going in or what to do next. Viktor had trusted him with these secrets, secrets that could change the world if they fell into the wrong hands, but the cartographer didn’t know if the man would have ever revealed his identity willingly. 

Instead of a response Viktor’s gloved hands moved to unclasp the chain he’d been absentmindedly toying with, pulling up a heart-shaped locket that sparkled where the sun’s rays hit it. At first glance it appeared to be crafted from gold, but upon closer inspection dull metal was visible in places where the coating had chipped away. Silently the captain placed the locket into Yuuri’s palm, the metal warm thanks to the man’s body heat, before turning onto his side so only his back faced the cartographer.

At first the heart didn’t open, as though the locket itself was trying to protect the contents within, but Yuuri found the groove and pried the two halves apart. Two faces stared back at him from the inside, memorialized in oil paint. One of the faces belonged to the boy from his memories, Viktor as he’d been before his parents had died and he’d turned into the pirate whispered about in hushed tones after night had fallen. The other picture was a shock as the cartographer recognized the child in it, remembered the day the portrait had been drawn, it was himself.

He’d refused at first, the idea of getting all dressed up just to pose in front of an artist for hours was extremely unappealing for a variety of reasons but Viktor had insisted that they get one picture together. “We’re soulmates! I don’t know when I’ll next see you and I don’t want to forget your face!” He’d chosen the outfits for both of them, the finest clothes Yuuri had ever worn, and brought in a painter from the country while both their parents talked over tea in the Winter Palace.

“I remember the portrait being bigger than this.” He hadn’t meant to say anything, but the words had just come out of their own accord.

“The original was too large to fit in a locket, but I asked one of the court painters to copy it for me. I’d intended to give it to you but...” Viktor didn’t need to explain why such a thing hadn’t been possible. “I think that’s the only remaining copy now, if the original wasn’t destroyed in the fire it was probably thrown out by my aunt, I wouldn’t put it past her to get rid of any reminders of what she did.”

Yuuri looked at Viktor once more, his soulmate and friend, a prince and a pirate. They’d been children when the Palace had been burned, their lives forcibly changed forever despite being too young to fully comprehend what had even happened. Viktor had survived the fire, but he’d lost the rest of his family and his whole future had been taken from him; if he wanted justice he’d have to do everything himself. Revenge seemed like the best option, revenge for the people who had died, for the childhood he never had, for stealing the throne that belonged to him. “You said you want to get even with her, what can I do to help?”

-

After Viktor’s bandages were finally removed he avoided mirrors, afraid of what he’d see looking back at him, of what he’d become. The maid and her friend had refused to let him see his own reflection until he’d healed and now that he could see the small scars on his palms and fingers he wasn’t sure he wanted to see how bad the damage to his face had been. The phantom feeling of heat searing his skin and blisters forming had crept into his nightmares, reliving that horrible night again and again until he was given a tonic so he didn’t dream at all.

Worse than the burn, worse than the itching and stinging as his wounded flesh healed, was the throbbing of his heart as the reality of exactly what had happened hit him again and again. Viktor longed for the stories he’d been read to be true so that a fairy would appear and turn back the clock to before everything had changed so drastically. The locket around his neck felt more like a noose now, a present he’d never be able to give his soulmate, his poor Yuuri who believed him dead like the rest of the world. There was nothing he could do to explain though, not without risking Tetya Iskra learning that her “beloved nephew” had survived her plan.

Viktor hadn’t want to believe that the aunt who’d always greeted him with a smile had tried to kill him, but it explained the conversation he’d overheard his father having with an advisor. It explained why she hadn’t been in the Winter Palace the day the fire started, why the day she’d left had been the only time she’d given her nephew a hug; before bidding her family farewell for the last time.

The coronation had been a few days ago, Russia had a new Empress but by that time Viktor was long gone, the maid had whisked him out of the country as soon as he’d healed enough for travel. Nobody could know the prince had survived so it had been best to take him far away from his homeland, where the chance of him being recognized was close to zero. 

During the long days of travel he had plenty of time to think about what he wanted to do in the future. Growing up Viktor had accepted the fact that he was to rule someday, how unlike other boys who had the option of picking a career his future was set in stone. Now, now that his life had changed so drastically he supposed that if he truly wanted to he could vanish without a trace, leave Russia to his aunt while he started over in a new country.

Even as he considered it Viktor knew he couldn’t abandon his home, Tetya Iskra had been so desperate for the throne that she’d killed her own brother, the thought of leaving his people under her rule was enough to turn his stomach. He loved Russia and he hated abandoning it, but until he had the ability to stand up to his aunt there was nothing he could do but bide his time. He would return someday, and he’d take back what was rightfully his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, did anyone else realize that having to deal with large amounts of stress for months is bad for your health or was it just me who didn't know? Just me? Alright then.
> 
> Next chapter is about half done, I actually started it before this one before I realized that I needed them to actually talk to each other so things were slightly less awkward. Know what would make things more awkward? If I made Yuuri take Viktor back to Japan to meet the family again. I like that plan. 
> 
> I really need to actually storyboard this thing.
> 
> Edit after being less tired: I went to Katsucon a few months ago and I made a Yuuri gown for it, if you saw me... I dunno cool?  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/gp/139656447@N07/uDH88X)


	7. Humus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humus: Ground, earth, soil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not hummus, humus. As much as I wanted to use Terra to continue the KH theme I had going with Ventus as the last chapter title, this seemed to fit better.
> 
> Didja miss me?

“Stay close to me, I don’t want to lose you.” Viktor’s voice was soft as he held one gloved hand out to Yuuri, his words barely audible over the hustle and bustle of the city around them.

Lucerne wasn’t as large as some of the other places the cartographer had visited, but it was still one of the most populated cantons in Switzerland. The industrial revolution had only just hit within the past decade and while they had an airfield now they still had less technology than most of the country. Yuuri had been expecting to see crowds of people hurrying from one shop to the next to avoid the chilly February air but the sight that greeted him was far different. Masks, masks everywhere of every shape, color, and size adorned the faces of the passersby, some so large they covered people’s entire heads. Musicians in strange costumes paraded about, pausing every so often in front of a crowd of masked strangers in hope of gaining a coin or two.

“Excuse me?” Yuuri tore his gaze away from a garishly dressed man in the clothes of a jester, his mask a bizarre caricature of a human face with bulging eyes and large teeth.

“The carnival is going on, and while it makes for good cover I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.” Viktor pulled out a pair of what looked like the carnival masks seen in books about Venice and tied one onto his face before handing the second to Yuuri. “Stay close to me.” Those words again, and yet the cartographer couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed knowing what they really meant.

“What is this?” Yuuri fastened his own mask in place before weaving in between crowds of people as he followed Viktor through the busy street.

“The Lucerne carnival, I never paid much attention to the history behind it because I only use it as an excuse to visit Chris.” Most stores seemed to have shut down for the festivities but the captain ignored the closed sign on one café’s door and barged right in before proceeding into the back room. A man with blonde hair and wire-rimmed glasses was seated at a table, one hand clasping a steaming cup of tea while the other thumbed through some documents before him. Green eyes took Yuuri in as he followed behind Viktor, a flicker of amusement dancing within them for some unknown reason before rose to his feet. Unlike the people outside this man was dressed in everyday clothes, the colors and fabric implying that while he liked to be comfortable he still had an interest in the finer things.

“Viktor! Good to see you my friend!” The blonde pulled Viktor in for a hug, the captain stiffening slightly at the action but didn’t say anything to stop him. “Why you make me come out here when you’re the one with an airship I’ll never know, Geneva has a lovely airfield now and it doesn’t take me a whole day to get there. I’m a busy man, you know that?”

“Geneva is too dangerous for me, the possibility of being recognized is too high. I refuse to let all I’ve done until now be ruined if someone finds out who I am and tells Tetya Iskra I lived.” Green eyes widened as they looked over Viktor’s shoulder to where Yuuri stood, wringing his cap in his hands as a way to get rid of his nervous energy; noticing where Chris’s gaze had gone to the captain nodded briefly. “He knows, he knew me before everything happened.”

“Before?” Chris looked more closely at Yuuri before his eyes sought out the gold chain around his friend’s neck, the locket he kept hidden from everyone. “Is this your soulmate then?”

With a jolt the cartographer straightened where he stood, his hands pausing as he realized that both men’s attention was now focused on him. Viktor turned back to the blonde and nodded, running one gloved finger over his left forearm where the silver snowflake that linked Yuuri and himself together lay in the crook of his elbow. “Yes, and as fate would have it I ran into him a few weeks ago over St. Petersburg.”

“Good for you, are you going to tell him what your plan is or will you finally admit you don’t actually have a plan?” Chris sifted through a pile of letters on the table next to him absentmindedly. 

“You don’t have a plan?” Yuuri spoke for the first time since they’d arrived.

“I do have a plan! It’s just... it’s a work in progress, alright?” Viktor’s cheeks were flushed under his mask. 

“You keep saying we don’t have enough information to make any moves but I feel like it’s an excuse to hide how scared you are of your aunt. Your people need you Viktor, they need a ruler who cares about them and the longer you wait the more they suffer.”

“I know that, but if we act too hastily and she finds out I’m still alive-” 

“She’ll find out eventually, you just have to make sure you have the upper hand when that time comes. What you need to do is start rallying people to your side and build an army. If you’d prefer to stay undetected plant rumors about her and watch the country turn against her,” Chris’s voice was calm but there was a hint of irritation that he was unable to keep hidden. “You have to do something while you still can.”

“What if we do both?” Yuuri felt awkward about interrupting but he did it anyway. “If she really is as bad as you say then people are going to cling to any shred of hope they can find. It would be easy to spread rumors about a resistance growing in protest to her rule, a resistance spearheaded by a silver-haired man with a Russian accent and I bet your aunt will begin acting reckless.”

“It’s a good idea, but revealing that Viktor is alive is our trump card and we have to wait until the right time to use it. A small group of rebels is easily crushed and that’s the last thing we want to happen.”

“So what should we say?” Viktor looked anxious, his hands clenched into fists on the table and his brow furrowed.

“Just say there’s a rumor that someone survived the fire at the Winter Palace. Don’t give details on who it was, only that there was a survivor and they claim the fire was intentional. As word spreads people will make up their own details and chances are if your aunt does hear about it she won’t have the correct information.” Yuuri bit his lip thoughtfully. “On the other hand, those who are sick of her rule will gather together and we can use them to rally others to your cause, killing two birds with one stone.”

“It’s awfully risky...” 

“We’re talking about overthrowing an empire, there’s nothing about this that isn’t risky.”

-

Normally the rocking of the ship helped Viktor sleep but tonight he and Yuuri were spending the night in a tiny inn, their business in Lucerne not yet finished. The inn had only had one room left thanks to the carnival and they’d had no other option but to share it if they wanted a roof over their head. There was a single bed over which a threadbare blanket lay and a small nightstand but nothing else.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.” Yuuri tugged his jacket off tiredly before curling up in the far corner of the room.

The mattress creaked as Viktor sank onto it. “What did I do this time?”

“I’m tired, it’s been a long day.”

“That’s not it and we both know it. You get this crease on your forehead when something is bothering you.” The captain began tugging his boots off, trying to distract himself from looking at his soulmate.

There was silence for almost a minute before Yuuri finally spoke. “Who am I to you?”

“What?”

“I know I’m your soulmate and your childhood friend, but so much time has passed since those days and I don’t even remember much of them,” The cartographer’s voice was tinged with sadness. “Who do you want me to be Viktor? Your friend? A comrade? Do you want more from me than that? Does having me onboard throw a wrench in your plans?”

The air between them felt heavy and Viktor didn’t know what to say, if there was anything he could possibly say to mend the bond that connected them. The truth probably was a good place to start.

“When I left Russia after... after everything happened, I kept thinking about you. With my parents gone and my aunt the reason behind their deaths you were the only person I was worried about. Sure, I’d been friends with Yura and some other boys growing up but at the time they’d been so young and it seemed like they’d forget me. You on the other hand, I’d always felt the need to protect you and I was afraid that you’d get bullied without me around.”

“We lived in separate countries Viktor, you weren’t around most of the time.”

“True, but being known as ‘the Russian prince’s soulmate’ probably helped some of the jerks stay away from you.” 

“What point were you trying to make again?” Yuuri huffed and adjusted his coat so it covered him better.

Rolling his eyes slightly Viktor stood up and crossed over to where the cartographer sat. “I never forgot you Yuuri. I never stopped thinking about you, how upset you must have been to think I’d died, what I could possibly do to make it up to you.” In one swift movement Yuuri had been scooped off the floor and into Viktor’s arms before being carried to the bed.

“Put me down!” 

Obligingly Viktor dropped Yuuri onto the creaking mattress. “We can share, alright? It’s just one night and while it’s not as nice as your room on the ship I trust you can put up with me until we get back.”

Yuuri didn’t answer, he rolled onto his side so his back faced Viktor before pulling the thin blanket over him. 

“If you don’t want to talk you can listen, I wasn’t done with my story,” There was an irritated groan from beside him but Viktor chose to ignore it. “I escaped Russia with one of the maidservants, it was thanks to her I survived the fire at all. We came out here, to Switzerland, and tried to start a new life in hiding. She worked while I attended school but money was always tight and I understood just how pampered my life had been in the Winter Palace.”

“I started stealing when I was thirteen, pickpocketing drunks just so we would have enough food for the two of us. I got caught when I was fifteen, by a burly sailor who was more impressed at my guts than annoyed by my actions. He offered me a job on his ship and I took it.”

“That was when you learned to sail?” 

“He taught me everything he knew about the seas, and by the time I turned eighteen he introduced me to one of his friends and I learned to sail the sky as well. One of my voyages took me back to Japan a year later and I made the captain furious by vanishing for days but I had to find you again.” The air had been so cold as he’d run around the small town with only his memories as a guide.

“Eight years ago, mom said that a foreigner was asking about me.” 

“I couldn’t explain what had happened, but after ten years apart I couldn’t control myself. I had to see you again, had to see you were okay with my own eyes even if I couldn’t talk to you. When I finally found you I started crying, you’d grown up happy and healthy even though I wasn’t a part of your life. I left you a present Yuuri, did you get it?”

“That was from you? The stuffed dog?” Yuuri had sat up again, his cheeks flushed as he avoided Viktor’s gaze. “Why did you write such a weird note?”

“You thought it was weird?”

“Mari teased me about having a secret admirer for months!”

What’s so weird about ‘you are always on my mind’- nevermind that sounds creepy I get it.”

There was an awkward silence before Yuuri spoke up again. “Well, coming from you it’s less creepy. At least I know you don’t have any ill intentions for me,” There was no response and Yuuri saw Viktor’s cheeks redden. “You know what I’m sleeping on the floor after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What have I been doing? Well if you guys noticed I participated in the Yuri on Ice reverse bang and the story I wrote for that was reaaaally detailed and needed most of my creative energy. After that I had a convention where I had to make a detailed cosplay in two weeks, my club's annual picnic where it was only at the picnic that my other club members noticed that I was overworking myself, and last Saturday was the steampunk street fair I help out with as a costumed character as well as helping with other costume-related things. 12,000 people came and I could have met Steam Powered Giraffe if I'd wanted to, wowie.
> 
> With all that stuff off my plate, although work is still a pain in my ass, I finally have time to write. Proof, this chapter. Everything after “Yes, and as fate would have it I ran into him a few weeks ago over St. Petersburg.” was written yesterday and today, the rest was written before the last chapter was published. I missed writing so much but I just had so much freaking stuff to do.
> 
> I hope people haven't given up on this story, thanks for reading!


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